


Tell all my mourners

by eldritchblaest



Category: Kakos Industries (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Attempted Sexual Assault, Black Comedy, Canonical Character Death, Cremation but make it nasty, Do Evil Better, Grief, Other, Pre-Canon, as is custom, barely, can you tell I’m a literature nerd yet?, kinda? It’s a bit vague, many apologies to Langston Hughes, non-explicit mentions of sex, this is fairly Fucked Up FYI
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 07:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritchblaest/pseuds/eldritchblaest
Summary: “To mourn in red --Cause there ain't no senseIn my bein' dead.”
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Tell all my mourners

**Author's Note:**

> Can’t stop won’t stop
> 
> Heed the tags, this is pretty damn nasty

The funeral was... fine. Something Grandfather would have liked, he’s sure.

He’s positive, actually— the former Corin Deeth had been very specific regarding his funeral arrangements, though he hadn’t deemed to show them to his Grandson. Probably for the best, since he hadn’t really been able to make sense of them anyway when the Division of Dionysia had presented him with the blueprints. He’d decided to simply nod and leave them to their work.

It looked like they’d done a pretty great job so far— most people were naked, though some weren’t, which was fine by him. People were lined at the Kakos Takos buffet table, pushing and shoving in line like it was Black Friday all over again. Others were on the dance floor, showing off their moves in a vaguely erotic dance-off. They’d sacrificed a goat earlier, which had been nice, and the stench of blood hanging in the air reminded Corin of the Shareholder’s Ball that was scheduled in the coming weeks. He wondered absentmindedly what the Blood Orgy flavor would be.

Junior wasn’t there. Corin didn’t think too hard about it— probably jacking off to Hentai or something.

He wandered aimlessly around the basement ballroom, looking through the train car windows and watching the fornicators with vague interest. There were two men in particular who were going at it rather enthusiastically— one of them made eye contact and beckoned him over with an excited wave of his hand. It looked like fun, but...

_Later_, he’d decided.

Sniffing the air, Corin noted something through the scent of blood— smoke, he realized with some alarm. He scanned the room for the source, and discovered it to be coming from the vents.

Someone bumped into him then, and he turned to see a member of the Division of Dionysia, wearing nothing but a black top hat and looking only _slightly _wasted.

“Corinnn!” She drawled out lazily, slinging an arm over his shoulder— she was almost as tall as he was, and he could feel her breath tickling his neck. “How do you like the partyyyy?”

“It’s fine, uhm...”

She smiled broadly. “I’m Tabitha. What do you think of the decorations? The smoke machine was my idea.”

He sighed in relief— all part of the plan.

She continued, “I gotta say, venting the smoke properly into the room took a bit of fiddling, but once the body was properly positioned—“

Relief gone. _What the fuck?_

His alarm must have shown on his face, because she laughed, leaning close enough thy he could smell the punch on her breath. “The cremation! Your Granddad told us to make it fun, and a bonfire couldn’t fit on the schedule, so—“

He nodded stiffly, closing his eyes against the sting of smoke (_Dead body smoke, what the **fuck** Grandfather_). He felt her sharp nails trace against the exposed skin of his hip, and the sultry drawl with which she said his name made him shudder.

“Stop it,” he croaked, refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge the enormity of _everything_ that’s happened in the past week.

_Grandfather’s dead and I’m breathing in his dust_

_ Grandfather’s dead and I’m breathing _

_ Grandfather’s dead _

He gasped loudly, jerking away from her and slamming himself against the nearby wall. He watched as Grace Rule approached from behind Tabitha, slung the petulant woman over her shoulder and marched out of the room. 

As he came back to his body, he took notice for the first time the people observing the odd display. He straightened his back and flashed them his most winning smile.

“Got a little out of hand, folks. All taken care of.” At this, he beckoned over a nearby waiter and grabbed a champagne flute off their platter.

He continued, raising his glass, “But enough of that! This is about new beginnings! The celebration of an evil life well lived!“

Corin then proceeded to knock back the entirety of his champagne, earning himself a decent applause from the rest of the room (except for the train fornicators, who kept on... well). He grinned painfully, his throat burning from the too-sweet booze. He carried on with a meandering and bittersweet dedication to his Grandfather, promising to lead them into a victory against the forces of Good, etc., all the while attempting to ignore the tightness in his chest and the burning in his eyes.

(He attributed them both to the smoke. He couldn’t afford to consider alternatives yet.)

When he’d received a satisfactory applause (two glasses later— he definitely wasn’t drunk enough yet), he dismissed the accumulated crowd of shareholders and employees, before pushing his way through the crowd, past the train fornicators (still going strong) and through a door marked CEO ONLY in red text.

He kept walking for what felt like hours, weaving through side tunnels and doors until, finally, he no longer smelled smoke; and once he’d reached that point, at a loss for anything else to do, Corin Deeth III, newly appointed CEO of Kakos Industries, slumped against the wall and cried himself to sleep.


End file.
